


Michael Moscovitz Doesn't Cry

by moscovitz



Category: The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, after book 8, i'm still obsessed yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 01:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moscovitz/pseuds/moscovitz
Summary: The infamous breakup in Michael's POV.





	Michael Moscovitz Doesn't Cry

Michael couldn’t remember the last time he had cried. 

Perhaps it was the time his mother came up to his room with a beaming smile to inform him that he was going to be a brother, or maybe it was the time he first saw his Lilly sister sleeping in his arms. Regardless of when, it was a known fact: Michael Moscovitz didn’t cry. It was almost as if the man didn't have any tear ducts, or he was just that cruel. No, he didn’t shed a tear when he was accepted into Columbia, early decision, nor did he cry when his parents announced their divorce. Not even when he watched the last Star Wars movie with Mia sobbing besides him.

He had been elated, for sure. He had been devastated. However, never once did Michael lock his bedroom door and allow tears to slip down his face. Michael Moscovitz simply did not _cry_.

Now, he was staring at the snowflake necklace that caused his lungs to shrivel up. And although Michael had studied the anatomy of a human and it’s working functions, he figured just this one time that it was possible. 

There had always been always a sense of achievement instilled in him by his ego when it came to that necklace. At first glance to a stranger, it was simply a necklace Mia loved that she never removed but it was actually her own private way of displaying her possessiveness of Michael. As long as the necklace was resting on her collarbones, there was a commitment between the two, even if it was unspoken of. 

Even though he never mentioned the necklace after it was bestowed upon her, his eyes often wandered to the miniature gem which she often toyed with when speaking to him. It was endearing how her fingertips often touched the metal unconsciously when she spoke happily about her day or explained to him certain Genovian traditions. 

She was _gone_.

He could feel a scream bubbling in his chest, demanding to be released. He tried to swallow it, along with the bile that threatened to travel up his throat if he didn't tear his eyes away from the necklace soon. 

He almost felt obligated to pinch his wrists. Did all that really happen? Did Mia just return his love back to him? Only a mere couple of minutes after pressing frantic goodbye kisses to his mouth and pressing her body up against his. His arms had been wrapped around her waist, where they belonged, and love coursed through his veins like it always did. Fuck. 

There was immense, blinding red anger. There was far more anger than guilt in his heart at this—this _stupid_ reason for breaking up. Surely, it wasn’t a hefty crime to think Mia would wait for him, remembering the amount of love her own heart held for him, which she has displayed on multiple occurrences! Yet, within a minute, it had dissipated? 

He remembered the day briefly as he continued staring holes into the necklace, breath caught in his throat, unwilling to be released.

It was a lovely day, Mia’s 15th birthday, and although it began the colossal issue between the busboy and Clarisse, not to mention his heated conversation about prom with her, the day was bookmarked in his head as a favorite. He often let his mind wander to that day when he presented her with a symbol of his love.

**

_Mia smiled at everyone, releasing his hand as she placed her napkin in the table and stood up. “Excuse me,” she said politely, turning away from her family, walking away._

_Michael’s eyes watched her exit the main hall, waiting a few moments before standing up as well. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered to Helen, quickly following Mia outside._

_Philippe and Helen exchanged anxious looks as they observed the young man sauntering to the exit with one hand on his pocket but dropped the matter once Clarisse began to motion the waiter, eagerly peering the menu, speaking loudly about her favorite soup._

_Mia was just at the stairs when Michael touched her elbow. He had to dodge a couple restaurant employees who had halted their movements to gape at her, but managed to catch her before she took a step. She whirled around and raised a questioning eyebrow. Her mouth opened to inquire what he was doing but he removed his hand from his pocket before she could say anything and presented her with the little flat box wrapped in gold foil._

_"Mia, this is for you,” he said quickly, hoping his nervousness was masked. “Happy birthday.”_

_She was extremely surprised as her mouth dropped open. “Michael, but you already gave me a present! You wrote that song for me! You got detention for me!”_

_Michael shook his head and swallowed. “Oh, that. That wasn’t your present. This is.”_

_Mia’s eyes dropped to the box and excitement lit her eyes as she opened it and let her eyes wander on the tiny metal. Her smile was so wide and her hands were quivering as her fingers removed the necklace from the box._

_“From when we were at the Non-denominational Winter Dance. Remember the paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling of the gym?” he clarified, tucking his hand back into his pocket anxiously. It was almost as if he was worried she didn’t recognize it but she did._

_Instead of choking out a reply, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a heavy kiss to his mouth right there. In front of all the waiters and employees. Michael didn’t even care who saw. Because in that moment, when his hands met her waist, he wouldn’t even care if the hottest teen magazines snapped a picture. Mia was happy and he was the reason for it._

_There’s nothing else he could possibly ask for._

** 

Michael forced himself to bend down, knees ungracefully touching hard floor with a _thud_. He touched the silver chain cautiously, as if expecting it to send a current of electricity throughout his body. The metal was cold from sitting on the floor for so long. His hands gently removed it from the dirty surface, shaking it gingerly to make sure it wasn’t broken.

He felt the urge to hurl it against the wall or toss it out the window for another man with a broken heart to carry home, yet he couldn’t. His heavy heart only sank lower into his stomach at the mere thought of destroying this weak specimen. 

It’s all he had left of Mia. 

The girl he had been in love with way before she’d seen him as anything besides her best friend’s geeky older brother. The girl who had kept him awake at night. The girl who he saw his future with. The girl he was proving himself for. Clarisse wasn't going to look over his head in a year’s time. No, she was going to be obsessively impressed by his intelligence and determination.

That, of course, would only happen if he ended up becoming successful.

Finally, after intense pondering over the fate of the necklace, he ended up tucking it into his pocket where it lay heavily. There was a lump in his throat that refused to leave; shaky knees barely holding him up as he retreated outside, dull.

Michael didn't bother taking the bus home. Instead, he carefully waited on the curb, although morbid thoughts about laying on the street did burden his mind, until a cab stopped with a sickening screech in front of him. The driver rolled down his windows, hesitantly asking, “Need a ride home bud?”

It took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away from the pavement but he ended up nodding and numbly climbed into the backseat of the taxi. He informed the driver of his address and allowed himself to be driven away from the place of his first and most painful heartbreak.

It wasn't until he was halfway done with the ride when the driver peeked at him through his rearview mirror with a slight frown on his face and asked, “Is everythin’ okay, mate?” 

Michael blinked and glanced outside his window, hands clenched in his lap, feeling the cool autumn air on his face.

Waves of nausea rocked his body, yet he kept a sturdy hold on his stomach, forcing himself to not vomit all over the seats. 

“I’m okay,” he replied half heartedly, slumped against the door with his eyes closed. 

Suddenly, the idea of discarding the necklace didn’t seem so bad. He couldn't bring himself to. The metal had brought him such joy over the span of the past through years; it meant more to him than all this gifts he had received throughout his 19 years combined. Nothing could amount to the rusting token. 

Nothing could amount to Mia.

**

When he arrived at home, his parents were nowhere in sight. Lilly was most likely in her room, and Michael couldn’t be perturbed by her endless questions so he quietly closed his front door and trudged upstairs towards his room. 

He was anything but silent. Perhaps it was his frantic breathing that gave him away, or his footsteps that seemed louder than necessary since he could barely hear through his ears. Mia’s final words to him relentlessly echoed in his head even though he tried to block her out. Tried to block the last two years out. 

Her accusing words about him lying to her when in actual, he simply hadn't mentioned the who he had sex with first. Or whatever ridiculous gift thing she called it. It was before he even knew she was in love with him! 

This entire breakup was one massive misunderstanding. He wasn't even at fault. 

“Michael! Why are you home so early?” Lilly stuck her head out her bedroom door and stared at him quizzically. 

It took him a hot minute to answer her. The words still seemed foreign on his tongue, as if he despised the taste of them. He held the detested sentence in until Lilly fully stood in front of him with large concerned eyes. “Michael? Do I need to call mom and dad?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” he whispered hoarsely. “We’ve...Mia and I—” he couldn't finish the sentence. He never thought he’d have to say it. 

Lilly, however, understood. Her jaw clenched, anger blazing in her eyes. “That bitch!”

“No. No, no, no...” he trailed off frantically, shaking his head. “It's not her fault please don't say anything to her.”

Lilly opened her mouth to release a long stream of profanities directed at her best friend. How dare she ruin her brother's life? And a day before he left for Japan too!

Michael shuffled back into his room after that, unable to stomach anything Lilly had to say about Mia. His door was locked with a swift hand, however he could still hear Lilly muttering swears at the girl. 

Once glance around his room made millions of memories rush back to him. Mia and him kissing on his bed. Mia sneaking into his room during the sleepovers Lilly hosted. Mia falling asleep on him involuntarily one night only to have him regretfully wake her up and send her back into Lilly’s room. Mia panicking besides him as she spoke about her day and the recent Genovian issue. Mia existing in Michael’s life. 

Through his blurred vision, he scrambled towards his desk where his remaining source of contact with Mia lay. He hastily opened his laptop and logged into his email, pulling up her name. 

Anger suddenly sparked up somewhere deep instead of him, along with his sorrow. The whirlwind of feelings made his world a little dizzier than necessary, however he pushed through until he was finished typing the email. 

**Author's Note:**

> catch me at harryforvogue.tumblr.com


End file.
